


Animal Kingdom

by mandalora



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: M/M, Power Dynamics, power maniac meets scheming psycho, takes place during 6x03, these boys are sick and I love them, what could go wrong?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22196206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandalora/pseuds/mandalora
Summary: He thinks he’s a lion,Oleg had said about Dir not even an hour ago, laughing.But he’s just a dog.
Relationships: Ivar (Vikings)/Oleg (Vikings)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 71





	Animal Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> An extension, if you will, of that romantic candle scene in the mausoleum in episode 3. Where's the content for this ship smh

Oleg was drunk.

So was Ivar, though he hadn't kept track of how much either of them drank, so it was either that he'd had less, or perhaps he was just better at holding his liquor. He liked to think it was the latter; the Prince had yet to prove himself on a few of such fronts and Ivar wasn’t about to go giving him credit where it wasn’t due.

They had drank together before, of course. But never to such an extent. Not in the mausoleum of Oleg’s dead wife, sitting on the floor and leaning against her sarcophagus, surrounded by dozens of candles.

No, this was a special occasion.

Just as special as the very fact that Oleg let himself get hammered in front of a stranger.

Though, not so much a stranger anymore, in his eyes. Which one was it, Ivar passingly wondered—was Oleg so naively quick to trust, or did Ivar naturally seem oh-so compelling?

Either way, he quite liked this development.

Oleg looked hazy and bleary-eyed, a loose smile on his wine-stained lips. He slipped in and out of a doze, mumbled condescending comments about his brother, occasionally tried to explain the brilliance of Dir’s impending capture which, thanks to his tangled tongue, did not come with much success.

 _He thinks he’s a lion,_ Oleg had said about Dir not even an hour ago, laughing. _But he’s just a dog._

Ivar looked at him, at his lazily smirking mouth, his half-lidded eyes. 

_So who is the lion, then? You?_

Perhaps that was why Oleg so flippantly waved Ivar off when asked about the preparations for the attack on Kattegat. Perhaps Oleg simply had nothing to tell him. Perhaps he thought that Ivar’s loyalty was ensured, that he’d gratefully eat up anything he told him. After all, he was just a cripple. He had nothing. He owed Oleg his life. Did he not?

Ivar wasn’t about to break that delusion.

Oleg brought his goblet to his mouth and found it empty; Ivar reached out to it but did not take it out of Oleg’s hand, only covered it with his own to gently lower the goblet to the floor and fill it.

In the low light, the wine flowed black.

Just as black were Oleg’s eyes when he turned them on Ivar. Unfocused. Trusting. Expectant.

A sigh escaped his mouth when Ivar leaned in, brushed his lips over his jaw and moved down to suck at the pulse point below. Warm, moist, slow kisses. Flattering. Cajoling.

Oleg’s eyes closed, his head slightly tilted away to give Ivar more room to worship him with his tongue, his breaths quivered despite coming slow and deep.

A pleased smile on his lips. A murmur, a pleasured hum. Gratified, almost.

Ivar continued to kiss him, trying to stifle a grin against the skin of Oleg’s bared, defenseless throat.

No, no. Not a lion. Merely a rooster.


End file.
